freyr
by blurryfvce
Summary: His sacrifice was like going to heaven. / DylasFrey


A world that didn't care about him was not worth his existence. A time that held nothing; indifference towards his life was well worth having some sort of way to erase himself from it.

Really, the whole sacrifice with himself for Venti's sake was much more than just to assist her. Life was boring, as he had figured out so easily. And it was so quick, the realization that _nothing_ would change the course of the universe, only made him accept death with open arms. Sacrifices were for the good of all, but for him, it was a one way ticket to freedom; a freedom where he no longer had to harbor the need to be cared for. He would leave this god forsaken planet, away from the lies that left Ventuswill's mouth and the ache that devoured his very state of mind.

His sacrifice was like going to heaven.

* * *

Dylas didn't believe in things such as fate, as it only was used to paint dreams that would never become a reality. Life was not supposed to be full of happiness, as he thought. There was no need for anything that wasn't the necessary skills for survival. Listening to those that spewed about life as finding a "special one," was nothing more than a load of bull. Affection was something that was alien to him, and he had heard that such matters did not only cause happiness, but also caused hurt. And he certainly did not want to know what it felt like.

He didn't want to feel any more pain than he already had to bear.

* * *

This pain was the worst he had ever felt in his life. It felt like something was ripping himself apart so carelessly, like the trash that he was, and he felt like a fool for feeling more than just physical hurt.

Was he awake? Was he even _alive_? All he managed to feel before drifting off was a cold, flat surface behind him, and something warm pressed to his cheek. Even though he tried so desperately to flutter his eyes open, he was still unable to bear this ache.

He wasn't sure what he had heard seconds before closing his eyes, but it sounded soothing.

* * *

Her name was Frey.

And he hated her.

He loathed everything about her. How happy she always was, the way she smiled at everyone, how polite and helpful she was towards _everyone_ …it ticked him off greatly. She was the definition of why he dared to go against fate. She made it seem like the world was a happy place to be in, and that she actually showed a hint – a _speck_ – of precaution for his meaningless existence.

Dylas never asked to be saved. He never wanted to walk such grounds again, in a world where Ventuswill was still alive, yet harmed, all for his sake. All for the sake of his deep, hidden desire to be here, alive and well. Undeserving, he felt. Never did he wish to have his life saved, and by _her_ of all people. He wanted to feel that freedom.

Yet, Dylas knew fully well that he lied to himself.

Of course he didn't want to disappear, and that he wanted to be cared for, but that all seemed too fictional. He would feel hurt from desiring such things that was only meant for people that were lucky, and he was not one of those people.

But _she_ was.

Wanting to keep to himself, like usual, he insulted her and pushed her away, in hopes of never wishing for such things he was not worthy of.

* * *

No matter how many times he insulted her, or shoved her away, Frey just didn't get the hint that he was very much bothered by her kindness. Why couldn't she just fuck off? Why was she so damn nice all the time? Why did she have such a perfect smile? Why was she…so…beautiful…?

Goals were things he had never taken into consideration, and the day she had gifted him his favorite dish of milk porridge, he vowed to become a better cook and to learn how to cook her favorite things.

The smile that graced her lips when he offered his hard work – cake, was well worth the many failed attempts.

* * *

 _"Everyone cares about you."_

Her words rang along his thoughts, keeping him from his slumber. Wide, gold eyes glued themselves to the ceiling, his arms tucked under his head. Honestly, Dylas was stupefied. Frey had such nerve to spew out these lies, and just as he was beginning to actually enjoy her presence.

Frey was stupid. Frey was an idiot…

Trying to convince himself what he already knew was fiction was becoming more of a chore than a skill.

 _"I care about you, too!"_

"Stupid…stupid…" he repeated, like a broken recording, closing his eyes. Alas, all that he saw was her serene face, wide smile as gorgeous as the morning sun, engulfing his mind.

The desire to be cared for, to be adored, to be _loved_ was growing stronger with each passing day. And it was _all_ her fault. He did not deserve such things. In fact, he did not deserve to be in her presence. She was too precious, too frail, for his callow, insensitive hands.

A fool for wanting such things only made him wish he had his freedom.

"Stupid girl…" he hissed louder, "Pathetic…stupid…idiotic… Ugh…get _out_ of my thoughts…!"

Dylas was up all night, and this had begun a cycle that wouldn't be ending soon.

* * *

He had come to enjoy their get-togethers. It was not rare for him to leave with a stupid smile plastered on his face once they had departed for the day. He'd pick her up from the castle, usually around 1000 hours, and from there, they would go on exploring, or his favorite, going out to fish at the nearby lake.

Frey was an _okay_ fisher, he noted, but she wasn't the best with patience. But it was nice to merely sit next to her, a fishing pole in between, the two, as they gazed out into the clear waters filled with fish they could catch. And they talked. Usually, they would start up by talking about the town and how thanks to Frey's efforts, it was becoming lively once more. Then, they would end up talking their interests, which turned into an eruption of giggles on her part, and embarrassment on his part.

A brush of their hands was also common. Whether it'd be by accident or purposely, it did not fail to have his cheeks burn, flustered. Her hands were so small and soft compared to his large ones, and they felt so warm, that he could not help the urge to grab it.

Only for the quickest second, because he knew that he should not be doing this to her, and himself.

* * *

He liked her. Never in his life, did he think he was ever going to harbor such strong feelings of desire for someone, the very thing he had despised all of his life. Wanting to care for and love someone was weakening him; it consumed him whole. And it was very confusing.

Someone like Frey going as far down for him was still so surreal. She could have anyone she wanted to, honestly, and the fact that he had perhaps had a chance to take that opportunity made Dylas realize that his repressed feelings were selfish.

He remembered her saying once that it was okay to be selfish.

Pressed against the wall near the entrance of the castle, he covered his mouth, face burning as his eyes caught her figure skipping from the direction of Granny Blossom's store, towards him. This was it. He had requested her to meet him at that spot, just one day after she had said that she had loved him. Dylas would give her his response to that.

Fate was cruel for placing him in this time, a time where someone like her existed, entered – _saved_ – his life, and made the experience worthwhile. So much, that he actually followed his hidden desires.

And as she stood in front of him, he lowered his hand, swallowing, and very nervous. He had never done such a thing before.

But he knew exactly what his answer was. One that finally, brought him happiness that was surely everlasting.

* * *

 _a/n: omg i've been so dead on this account aha... sry... you can find me on tumblr at periwinkquills! :D_


End file.
